The Twin Ventriloquists: or, Nimble Ike and Jack the Juggler. Old Sleuth

I am aiding him all I can."

      "Is he a Frenchman?" asked Jack.

      "No, he is an American born. His father was an engineer on an ocean steamer. He was drowned when Henry was quite a lad. Henry was left an orphan at an early age, compelled to knock around and pick up a living as best he could. He got appointed on the police force, won promotion and is now a regular detective. I want him to make a great success, and I am aiding him all I can."

      "I took a fancy to him at the first glance," said Jack.

      "I am glad of that."

      "Yes, I am in with you and when we can do him a good turn we will."

      "I am much obliged to you, and we can aid him right now. He has been assigned to run down some burglars who are infesting a section of country over in Jersey. The gang has become very daring. They are very expert and the losses of the people have been heavy; they have raised a fund which is offered as a reward for the capture of the thieves. The chief in New York is anxious to aid the officials across the river and has detailed my friend Henry on the case. It will be a big thing for the young officer if he can run down those thieves."

      "We will secure the big thing for him," said Jack. "I've had a little experience in detective work."

      "So I've heard."

      "When does he start in?"

      "I am to hear from him later."

      The two ventriloquists finished their game and walked over to a table where two experts were playing a great game in presence of quite a crowd of witnesses. Ike and Jack were both very fond of the game, although neither of them could play an expert game, with all their talents; their genius did not run in this direction. It is remarkable that a great many men who are expert in one direction are singularly deficient in others. There was a party of young smart Alecs watching the game. They were very boisterous and demonstrative – really interfered with the players – and they were very unmannerly in several ways, pushing forward and crowding quieter people in a very rude manner. Ike and Jack fixed their eyes on the dudes and then exchanged glances; and that exchange of glances meant a little fun for the tricksters and discomfiture for the boisterous dudes, the sons of rich men who because of their social position were permitted to cut up their capers where better youths would have been kicked out of the place. The dudes every few moments would break through the crowd and go to the bar, and upon their return they would push through to the front, shoving others aside as though the balance of the beholders were mere serfs; and in pushing through upon one of their returns, Ike became their victim. The young ventriloquist did not submit to be pushed so rudely and said:

      "See here, Mister Man, you should wear better clothes. You are such a pusher you should have gotten ahead in the world."

      The youth stared and the bystanders laughed. The joke was a good one. Many times it could be applied in a crowd, for there are so many rude people who appear to think there is no one in the world besides themselves.

      "Don't you like it?" demanded the pusher.

      "Oh, yes, I like it," answered Ike with a laugh. "It's quite an honor to be knocked around by a thing like you."

      "I'll punch you in the head if you say much."

      "Oh, I won't say much. I'll be as quiet as a lamb. I won't even bleat. It's all right; excuse me for being in your way. I am proud – very proud – to be knocked aside, certainly."

      At that moment there came a voice asking:

      "Why don't you rap that dude on the head?"

      The dude looked around to learn who had offered the bold suggestion, and then demanded:

      "Who spoke then?"

      "I did," came a voice, but no one appeared to know just who the "I did" was. But there came the suggestion:

      "Don't look so fierce. You're around to swipe pocketbooks, you are. I advise these gentlemen to be on the lookout."

      The three dudes all closed in close to each other. Their faces were white with rage and they had just liquor enough in them to be anxious for a brawl, and one of them said:

      "I'll give a hundred dollars to know who spoke."

      "What will you give?" came the voice.

      Ike stood still and apparently as mute as a sexton at a funeral.

      "You haven't got a hundred cents; you just hung your last drink at the bar."

      "You're a liar," came the declaration from one of the dudes.

      "And you're a thief, or let's see your money."

      The dude went down in his pockets, drew forth a roll and exclaimed, as he waved it aloft:

      "Here's my money. A hundred to ten you are a liar, and a hundred to one you dare not show your face."

      "Here I am."

      The voice sounded as though the speaker stood directly in the midst of the trio of dudes. The "chappies" looked at each other in amazement.

      "Send for an officer," came a voice. "I've lost my pocketbook."

      It appeared as though the voice came from the opposite side of the crowd to where the dudes were standing.

      The dudes were dumfounded; indeed, the game was stopped and the owner of the billiard hall walked over to learn what the row was. Very well, at this point the row commenced. One of the youths, calling the proprietor of the hall by name, said, or seemed to say:

      "You go away from here, you duffer. We own this place and don't want any of your interference."

      The declaration took the proprietor's breath away for a moment. He just stood and gazed, when another of the youths appeared to say:

      "Charley, why don't you smash Decker in the jaw? What business has he to come around here and interfere with our fun?"

      "Who are you talking to?" demanded the proprietor, his face white with rage.

      "You," seemingly came the answer from the dude.

      The proprietor could stand no more. He made a rush. He did not care at that instant if the dudes were the scions of the governor of the state. He grasped the chap who it appeared had given him the insolence by the loose part of his trousers and the collar of his coat, and he walked him French fashion toward the door. The youth made a vigorous protest. His friends also joined in, when the bartender rushed from behind the counter and seized another of the "chappies," and a guest who was a vigorous fellow seized the third one; and then commenced a grand march toward the street door, and each one of the dudes was thrown into the street and a kick was administered to each as he was thrust out. Poor dudes! they had not been guilty of the particular sin for which they suffered, but they deserved all they got, just the same, for they had made nuisances of themselves.

      Jack and Ike left the place. They were delighted with the rebuke they had administered, but the fun was not over. The three dudes were standing at the corner of the street talking over their grievances. They espied Ike and Jack and one of them said:

      "There are the fellows who drew us into this trouble."

      "Let's hammer them."

      Neither Ike nor Jack were formidable-looking chaps, and the dudes sailed for them. Well, a lively scene followed. The two ventriloquists were both lithe, active athletes, and the way they polished off the "chappies" was a sight to behold, and they were having a heap of fun when suddenly both were seized by the collars of their coats and found themselves in the grasp of two stalwart policemen.

      Neither lad was scared. They did not mind their arrest on such a trivial charge at all, and they were led off. Ike asked by signal:

      "What shall we do?"

      "What do you think?" came the answer.

      "Shall we be locked up and raise old Cain in the station house, or shall we make these officers dance right here?"

      "Let's make them dance," came the answer.

      The lads struck a good chance even as the word was passed. They were passing a tenement house and a man had just raised a window to close the shutters or something, when there came